


Distractions

by Scribe32oz



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 13:39:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1650587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe32oz/pseuds/Scribe32oz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Season 3 Finale - In the aftermath of Emma's confrontation with Regina, Killian finds a way to distract Emma from her guilt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

 

Authors Note: Just a bit of post Season 3 finale musings that needed expression. 

 

**DISTRACTIONS**

 

“I can’t breathe,” Emma whispered when she drifted back to Killian, her mind still refusing to believe how things could change _that_ fast.  Regina’s words had drawn blood as the former queen had no doubt intended but for the first time, Emma couldn’t fault Regina’s anger.

Killian had watched the whole thing unfold, cursing at himself that he hadn’t tried harder to convince Emma to let Marian remain behind in the Enchanted Forest.  Even when they’d gotten home safe, there was the gnawing sensation that there would be consequences for what they had done because no good deed ever went unpunished. Still, even he had not expected the damage to be quite so devastating. 

“You couldn’t have known,” he tried to ease her guilt but knew  it wouldn’t be enough. Her eyes bore guilt and shock, especially after Regina had swept out of Granny’s Diner and Robin, who hadn’t sense enough to realise what he had done, was still fawning over his wife when he’d broken the heart of his lover. 

“You tried to warn me,” she whispered, “you tried to...” 

Killian reached for her hand, squeezed it tight stopping her from giving him this unwanted vindication, “Swan, you couldn’t leave her to die. Even I know that. This is just...” he didn’t know how to describe it.  “...Cruel.”  Cruel. Unfair. Fate’s continuing way of being a capricious bitch when you least expected it.

 

“She was happy,” Emma declared with real anguish in her eyes that tugged at Killian. “She was _actually_ happy and I took that away from her.” 

Across the room, Snow who nursing baby Neal whilst talking to Henry, prodded David to investigate.  Indisposed momentarily, she knew something was wrong by the way Regina had stormed out of the diner and noticed that Robin was now with the stranger Emma had brought back from their land. It cast an ominous presence over the festive mood in the place.

David’s suspicion was already burgeoning. Snow’s prompt gave him reason to find out what was happening without seeming like an over protective father. It hadn’t escaped him, the familiarity that Emma and Hook had regarded each other when the two had come back into the diner together.  It was subtle, the way Hook’s hand brushed against her jacket, the little smiles she gave the pirate at the contact, like there was a secret between them that no one else was privy to. 

David trusted Hook to a degree but what he was seeing now, was an entirely different trust and he didn’t know how to deal with it. He was father to grown woman without the wisdom it took to get there and trying to decide when to interfere was _hard_.  It was watershed enough tonight that Emma had started calling Snow and him mom and dad and David hadn’t realised how profoundly good it felt to have her finally see them that way. He didn’t want to spoil it. Finally, in the millisecond it took to reach them, David decided that he had faith in Emma to know her own heart. If she was willing to give the pirate a chance, he’d abide by the decision.

But if Hook hurt Emma, David had decided, he was losing the _other_ hand. 

“Emma, what is it?” David asked when he reached them, his brow furrowed with concern as he saw how pale Emma looked. What the hell had happened? When she walked in with Hook earlier, she was almost glowing and now, now it looked like the world had collapsed on his child. 

“What happened with Regina?” He glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of Robin and the woman Emma brought back in a booth. 

Emma was too sick with guilt to say it and Killian could see she was still reeling from what she had done. She was a strong woman who would fight to protect herself and the people she cared for and she had a streak of ruthless in her for sure but it wasn’t in her to be cruel, intentional or not. Like her parents, his Emma had a strong moral code and a desire to do right by everyone. While not as pure as Snow (no pun intended) in her idealism, Emma still cared for people, even one who was previously an enemy. 

“The woman we brought back,” he was careful to use the word ‘we’, “its Robin’s wife Marian.” 

Wife? He glanced over his shoulder again and saw the couple sharing the same intimacy and affection that he might have done with Snow and their child.  In a split second, David had an ugly picture of what Regina would have walked into. Though it was hard to feel compassion for the woman who had spent so many years trying to destroy them, he felt it nonetheless. 

No one deserved having true love snatched away. 

“Damn,” David grimaced and then rebounded quickly because Emma was obviously feeling the same thing a thousand times worse. “Emma you couldn’t have known.” He wrapped his arm around his daughter and pulled her in for a hug, as if he were trying to soothe a fall off a bike instead of hurting Regina.

“I hurt her...dad.” Emma whispered raising her gaze to him and not for the first time, he saw Snow’s eyes staring back at him. It filled him with a need to protect her that was so fierce, he could scarcely believe its power.  Holding her close, still surprised by how good it was to have her call him that, he willed his strength and absolution into her. 

“You didn’t mean too,” he assured her and yet even as he said it, he knew that there would be consequences beyond Regina’s broken heart. As the evil queen, she’d set so many things in motion because of her anger at Snow for ruining her chances of happiness that there was no telling what would happen now. 

“It doesn’t change that I did,” Emma replied and pulled away from him after a few seconds, herself mildly surprised by how great a dad’s hug could be. “I need some air. Dad could you please take care of Henry?”

“Sure,” David nodded, stepping away to give Emma her space and knew instinctively just by looking at Hook told him that the pirate wasn’t being left behind. His gut reaction was a right hook (no pun intended) but then again, maybe the pirate was just what she needed.  David bristled at the thought that Emma might need someone other than her parents but then remembered his daughter wasn’t some blushing bride. She was a grown woman with a child who was more than adept at taking care of herself. Not to mention the saviour. 

Emma gave her father a look of gratitude and then walked out the diner. Suddenly, being in a crowd was too much for her. 

Killian stared at the back of her red leather jacket for a second before moving to follow, his expression grim. He hadn’t gone more than a step when he felt a hand clamp around his bicep, halting him from going any further. Of course, he thought as he locked eyes with David. 

“Let me go mate, she shouldn’t be alone, even if she thinks she needs to be.” 

To his chagrin, David knew Hook was right but he also knew that the pirate’s intentions towards his daughter and spoke evenly. “I’ll say this just _once_. She’s been through enough lately, I don’t want her hurt.” 

“Then _don’t_ hurt her,” Killian retorted, yanking his arm away and hurrying after Emma. 

*******

Of course he’d follow her, Emma thought when she heard the bell and the door to the diner slamming behind her. A quick glance tossed over her shoulder to see how far behind he was  prompted her to wait for him to catch up, which he did a second later. His expression was one of understanding and sympathy as their eyes brushed. It made her think of the kisses they had shared earlier, the tenderness in which he’d treated her, so different from the earlier version she was trying to distract on the Jolly Roger.  Somewhere beneath all that leather and eyeliner, was a good guy trying to get out and she recognised the effort he was making for her. 

“Where are we going Swan?” He asked when they resumed walking while at the same time, linking his arm through her and was mildly pleased when she didn’t resist.    

“I don’t know,” she said shaking her head and it was true. She didn’t. She just wanted to walk, wanted to leave behind the diner so she didn’t have to face everyone now when they realised the full scope of what she’d done. The irony of it was, most would think that Regina was getting her just desserts and yet Emma knew how dangerous that lack of compassion could be.  At least Regina wasn’t on the street to confront. Emma didn’t know what to say to her, didn’t know what she _could_ say. 

“Okay,” he said simply and dug his hands into his pockets, remaining silent. 

“Okay?” She gave him a pointed look. “That’s all you’re going to say? Not going to try and tell me its not my fault?” 

“Would it help?” He asked. 

Emma shot him a glare of annoyance. “No,” she returned petulantly. 

“Then I’m just walking with you,” Killian replied, “keeping you company.” 

A small smile crossed her lips at that and her annoyance at him bled away, even if the pain was still there. “You’re such a pain in the ass.” 

“Is that an invitation?” He winked at her.

“Really?” Emma asked, making a face as she shook her head, unable to believe he just went there and then she remembered; _Oh yeah, pirate._  

They walked for a few more minutes, arm in arm as while Emma led him down the sidewalk in no particular direction although they were inching closer and closer to the docks.  She replaying all her talks with Marian in the Enchanted Forest, trying to determine if there was anything the woman said that might have given Emma some clue about her identity before the exchange in the diner. As it was, the signs were all there, everything was a possibility, everything except Marian actually naming her husband. 

Damn it, everyone was right, she couldn’t have guessed and yet it didn’t make her feel any better knowing that. 

“Well since we’re almost at the docks,” Killian finally broke the silence with a change of subject, “want to see what I’ve been doing when I haven’t been running after you Swan?” 

Emma raised a brow, “what do you mean?” 

“Well I’ve got a lot of free time on my hands you know when I’m not rescuing you,” he teased aware that was going to get a rise out of her. 

“Ha!” Emma snorted. “I seem to remember I saved _myself_ the last time.” 

“Details, details,” he waved a hand about dismissively. “Smee got on my case again about putting to sea. Believe it or not, he thinks he we can still pirate in this world.” 

Emma couldn’t keep her jaw from dropping and simply stared before declaring, “you’re kidding right?” 

“No,” he said, glad that she was temporarily distracted by the absurdity of the suggestion. “He really thinks so. Don’t worry, when I was in New York with you, I saw enough to know that’s a bad idea.” 

“I’m glad,” Emma said relieved. “Remind me to rent you Captain Philips,” she added. 

“Who?” His brows furrowed in puzzlement.

“Nevermind,” she shook off the remark and nudged him with her arm to continue. 

“Well whatever magic Regina used to create this land,” he gestured to Storybrooke around them as they paused on the wooden pier,  “it also put boats out there.”  

There were at least ten of them on the water and Killian had come to realise only a few of them actually did anything or for that matter belonged to anyone. Once the memories had returned to the folk of the Enchanted Forest, those who had been forced into a fisherman’s life in Storybrooke weren’t all that eager to continue the facade.  So now, their boats were sitting there, unclaimed and forgotten. 

After his conversation with Smee, especially after Zelena had cursed him with the lips to take Emma’s powers, Killian had considered leaving Storybrooke might be a way to keep from hurting her. He’d walked around the docks and found the ship he was pointing at, thinking that it could use work and while he needed to wrap his head around this whole business of diesel, it was sizeable enough to be a working ship. The sail boats of this land were pretty enough but they didn’t seem functional in his opinion. 

“Don’t they belong to somebody?” She asked, realising that it was true. How many fisherman did they really have in Storybrooke now?  Since the curse had been broken, she’s spotted more than a few of the boats just languishing at the docks. 

“Some of them do but that one doesn’t,” he pointed to one of the ships moored along the dock. It was a 90 foot fishing boat, its rusted hull painted orange and white. It looked abandoned. “So I’ve staked my claim.” He grinned. 

“Staked your claim?” She stared at him, “how do you stake your claim? 

“By moving in of course,” he grinned as if it was the most logical thing in the world. 

Emma made a mental note to find out who actually owned the vessel tomorrow. Even if he was probably right about it being abandoned, as sheriff, she felt responsible to ensure that his ‘claim’ was in some way ratified so no one could accuse him of...well piracy.  _Oh the irony_. In any case, after what he’d told her about the Jolly Roger, Emma had no heart to trouble him with reminders of legal ownership, at least not yet. 

Besides, he was _Captain freaking Hook._ How could he not have a ship of his own? 

“Its a big boat,” she pointed out as they walked towards it. 

“Aye,” he nodded. “I’m thinking I’ll do some work on it, with Smee’s help of course, making it into a  pleasure sailing vessel like I read about in those magazines at Granny’s.” 

Emma crooked a brow, trying to stifle a chuckle as she pictured him at the diner, pouring over a copy of Soundings,  the only boat magazine she knew about, making life choices that didn’t involve piracy.  It made her realise how much he was reordering his existence for her.  This reeked of permanence and a commitment to make a life in Storybrooke. She knew he was attracted to her and there were moments when he wasn’t being a total ass showing off, that she saw his efforts to be a better man for her. He hadn’t said the words to her but she saw it in his eyes sometimes, the way he looked at her when he didn’t think she noticed and what she saw scared the hell out of her. Still did. 

Regina had taken her heart out to keep from feeling, Emma could have told her you didn’t go that far to keep people out. After Neal had left her and she’d given up Henry, Emma had gone through life systematically building layer upon layer of detachment and cynicism on all things emotional.  Only when she had come to Storybrooke had that changed and only tonight, had the walls really come down. She’d realised David and Snow were her parents, the mom and dad she’d dreamed off since childhood waiting at the foster home to be adopted. She couldn’t leave them anymore than she could have left this town that had become her home. 

And then there was Killian. 

Emma didn’t know if she loved him yet but she was almost there. She could feel it.

********

 “Welcome aboard Swan,” he extended a hand towards her as she stepped off the gangplank onto the deck. 

“Are you renaming her?” Emma looked about the ship which definitely had a look of abandonment about it. Cobwebs and dust covered most surfaces but some had been cleaned. Most likely the areas Killian had trafficked since ‘claiming’ the craft. 

“Yes,” he nodded, “she’s obviously named after someone’s lady love. _Beyonce_.” 

Emma let it pass. “Change it Killian, _really_.” 

He gave her a puzzled look and then shook if off, “well I was going to call her the Jolly Roger II,” he explained and omitted the fact that he had considered calling it Emma before realising that could be a little too melodramatic. 

“I like it,” she smiled, aware that he was distracting her from what had happened in the diner and secret adoring him for it.  She didn’t want to think about Regina anymore, all that could wait until tomorrow. 

The ship had the distinct smell of the sea and it was clear that he’d done some work on it because there was the antiseptic stench of cleaner trying to overcome the fishy smell.  Leading her down the wooden deck, he led her into the wheel house that had been cleaned up, if the gleam on the metal and the fine polish of the flywheel was any indication.  The steps led to the interior of the craft and emptied into what could be called the galley and mess. 

“Its still a work in progress,” he remarked after flicking on a switch when after his descent. Light flooded the place and allowed Emma to see better. 

The interior of the ship was constructed out of wood, which belied all the metal she saw outside. Emma spied a decent sized kitchen in the corner and surrounding the table in the middle of the room were padded seats that probably acted as storage compartments if you lifted up those dusty cushions. She noted that the kitchen had been used because there were traces of empty paper bags from Granny’s and also a couple of empty potato chip packets.  Her eyes narrowed, recognising Henry’s favourite among the selection.  Oh and of course, the empty bottle of rum. Once again she thought;  _Oh yeah, pirate._  

He led her through the galley down a short corridor and through a door that led to the master cabin. Unlike the rest of the boat, this room had a decidedly lived in look. The storage cupboard against the wall also turned into the bunk bed. A porthole positioned just above the mattress gave its occupant a view of the outside world.  A television set was mounted against the wall opposite the bed and a tall mirror bolted against the next to it near the door. There was a dusty hessian rug on the floor and his half opened duffle lay against the foot of the wall. 

On what passed for the bureau, she saw a book lying flat on its pages and her lips quirked into a little smile, noting the title. “Reading up on yourself?” It was a copy of J.M Barrie’s Peter Pan. 

Killian grinned, “well most of it is inaccurate though I was surprised that the author knew I went to university at some point.” 

Emma’s eyes widened. “You went to college?” 

“Don’t act so surprised Swan,” he gave her a look of mock hurt. “I did have a life before I became a pirate you know?” He turned away and rummaged through one of the compartments under the bed . “You don’t become the first mate on the King’s ship by being daft. Ah there it is,” he turned around and held up an almost full bottle of rum. “Come on, we’ll have a drink on the deck.” 

Emma stared at him, trying to picture him in as a legitimate officer on an old style naval ship, complete with blue coat and all. If it wasn’t for the curse, she might have met him back in the kingdom, the Princess taking her first dance from the dashing officer.  The ball that they’d attended together only hours before was fresh in her mind and though her origins were steeped in fairy tales, she couldn’t deny being swept off her feet when he took her hand to dance. 

“What?” He asked, wondering why she’d gone all quiet on him.  The woman was a puzzle. There were times he knew exactly what she was thinking of and there were moments like now, when she was looking at him like she had no idea what to do with him, that made him distinctly uncomfortable. He wondered if the guilt about Regina had come back to her and hoped the alcohol would blunt that regret a little. 

Instead, she closed the distance between them, lifted her chin while one hand retrieved the bottle in his hand. She was so close, he could feel her breath on his skin, it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He watched as she unscrewed the cap, her eyes fixed on his, before lifting the bottle to her lips and taking a generous swig. He watched the graceful line of her neck as she drank, the smooth ripple against the creamy skin. 

“Let’s drink it in here,” she said softly, her lips moist with rum. 

For once, he wasn’t sure what to say. In this relationship, she had all the power and he hadn’t minded that. Killian had no illusions to what he was and she had enough fortifications around her heart to make penetration difficult.  That she had let him in this far, Killian was grateful and as much as he wanted her and he wanted her very, very much. He’d learned that anything stolen from Emma wouldn’t be appreciated. If he wanted to win her, he had to be patient. 

He let her make the first move like before. Her lips pressed against his made him shudder inwardly because the taste of her was almost as intoxicating as the rum on her lips. Once she’d initiated it however, the pirate in him surfaced with a vengeance. He claimed her like plunder, his tongue slipping past her teeth and exploring the warm cavern of her mouth as they stood there in the middle of the room. One hand snaked around her back, pulling her close to him, their bodies pressing against each other the way they had in Neverland when she’d claimed their kiss was a one time deal.

These kisses were devoid of the earlier tenderness. This time, they were raw and full of passion. Once givn permission, Killian was all in and he plied her lips with bruising kisses as he guided her backwards.  They stopped when her back was pressed against the wall though neither notice.  With the hook resting on the space beside her head, his hand made contact with  the smooth skin beneath her t-shirt and slid up her belly and ribs. His fingers grazed soft lace before he cupped the firm breast beneath her bra and kneaded gently. A soft gasp of pleasure escaped her as he thumbed the hardening nipple beneath the fabric. 

The sound almost undid him. it went straight to his cock and if she had been oblivious to his arousal, she would surely know it now. He continued to ravage her mouth, their tongues duelling with equal skill for dominance. He felt her fingers raking through his hair, pulling him closer and closer and his hardened flesh was pressing into her belly. At the contact, Killian swore he heard her growl hungrily. Past the point of no return, he tugged at her jacket, allowing it to fall to the floor in a puddle of red leather.

  
Emma didn’t protest. Instead she lifted the bottle she’d miraculously not managed to drop and poured its contents over their lips. Rum had down their chins and suddenly they weren’t just kissing each other but drinking too. The liquid soiled her t-shirt, glistened against his vest and she remembered what it was like to be kissed by his earlier version. How frenzied that had been and how much better _this_ was. After her jacket was discarded, Emma saw that he was rolling up her t-shirt. She paused a moment to see what he’d do with an undergarment that wasn’t a corset. 

Killian barely noticed the mechanics of modern female underclothes. All he saw was a piece of fabric keeping him from what he wanted and it was easy enough to surmount. Giving her no quarter, he pulled away the fabric aside, freeing the ripe, plump breast he had so appreciated in the Enchanted Forest before drawing in a nipple, moistened with rum, past his lips and suckling hard. 

“Oh God...” she gasped as the sensation of his tongue doing things to her. She felt every flick and swirl as he explored every inch of her. Desperately, she managed to find somewhere to put the bottle, needing both hands free. Her fingers raked against the leather of his coat, her mind lost in a stupor of pleasure and hungry need. 

Killian grinned and continued his work, caressing her flesh, trying to get as much of her into his mouth as he could.  His hands had already started pulling down the zipper of her pants (a much better contraption than laces), wanting to explore more of her. Once undone, he slid down her body and started working her pants off her. Looking up, Killian flashed her his most roguish smile, happy that she wanted this too because of the delightful wriggle in her hips to help him roll down her pants.

“This would work so much better if you helped me Swan,” he teased, planting soft kisses down her bare thigh as his hand unzipped her boots and allowed her to shuck them off. 

 “And miss watching a master at work?” She teased, her eyes twinkling as she pulled of her t-shirt and unhooked (no pun intended) her bra before tossing it. “Not a chance.” 

“Master huh?” He liked the sound of that. 

“Yeah,” she said coyly, “you’ve been bragging about it since I met you.” Emma’s eyes gleamed with challenge. “Show me what you got pirate.” 

“Oh I _will_ Swan,” he said huskily, now that the gauntlet had been thrown. “I surely _will_.” 

Using the hook, he removed the last thing she had on with a flick of his wrist. The scrap of lace landed on the floor somewhere unseen and he lifted a perfect thigh to rest it on his shoulder. With a wink, he lowered his head and buried his face between her legs. 

Emma’s head bumped against the back of the wall as she felt his mouth on her. She knew that he had a silver tongue when it came to charming women but right now, Emma decided she’d really underestimated how well he used it for other purposes. The sensations that assaulted her was beyond description. She could feel every flick of his tongue against her clit, feeling him swirling and nibbling, teasing her so beautifully she could barely think. Her hands were running through his hair now, her eyes clamped shut in perfect ecstasy. 

“Killian....” she whimpered, hating herself for sounding so desperate but a thrust of his tongue into her inner passage made her forget all that. “Oh my God Killian.” 

 Was there anything finer in all the world then to hear your woman calling your name when you did this to her? 

Killian didn’t think there was. He held onto her hips, holding her steady and ensuring she didn’t squirm out of his reach before he started thrusting into her moist passage in a steady rhythm, the stubble on his face, creating a delicious friction with the rest of her flesh. He could hear her whimpering and it made him hard as a nail but he couldn’t stop, not until she came screaming his name. He alternated between tongue and fingers, all the while ensuring that tight nubbin of pleasure was not left neglected. Her walls began to pulse around his tongue and fingers, making him dizzy from the pleasure of it. 

“Killian, I want you,” she begged. 

If he could have cheered in triumph, he would have. As it was, he had more important things to attend as he continued his oral assault.  Slowly and surely, he felt her near the edge. Her cries grew more desperate and the muscles inside her were fluttering in pre-orgasmic readiness.  He’d wanted this for so long and now that it was here, the pirate in him surfaced to enjoy the moment. 

“You like this Swan?” he couldn’t help tease as his fingers pumped her lovely, lovely quim for all the pleasure she could stand. “You like me doing this to you?”

“Yes,” Emma whimpered brokenly, “yes God yes. Don’t stop...” he word were becoming nonsense and she knew she was close. She felt his breath again as he reclaimed her clit and that was all she could stand before she felt that exquisite wave of pleasure sweep her up and she was completely and utterly lost.

She came hard and Killian enjoyed every bit of her climax. He drank her down, savouring every bit of her taste. He nuzzled her folds, making her climax a multi layered aria as her body bent, her leg stroking his back. He could hear her panting and that sound was like music to his ears. He wanted to hear it forever, wanted to wake up with it. Killian wanted that for the rest of his life if he could have it. 

Emma had challenged him and she knew he was good, he had to be with all those women before her, however she hadn’t imagined this. She hadn’t thought that she’d promise him anything if he didn’t stop or how much care he’d taken with her to ensure she was pleasured first. And it was more than just an expert at work. Every touch and stroke had been delivered with a mixture of lust and reverence and as she watched him between her legs, savouring her like fine wine, she felt a wave of emotion that didn’t fit the passion of the moment. 

“Killian,” she said softly, “come up here.” 

There was something in her tone that made him look up and when he did, what he saw in her eyes made him pause. He swallowed thickly and slowly stood upright. She was wearing one of those looks he couldn’t read and for a moment, he wondered if she was regretting taking things this far so soon. It had been at her behest, he thought immediately. 

“Emma,” he spoke, trying to tell her that this wasn’t a mistake when he felt her hand around his neck, pulling her down against her mouth. 

She kissed with the same tenderness they’d shared earlier, tasting herself on him while at the same time, wanting to show him just how deeply he’d stolen into heart. She hadn’t thought it could happen again after Neal.  However, it had and she was happy. As they kissed, she began working the laces of his leather pants. When they were loosened enough, dipped her hand past the fine hairs of his belly to take hold of his hardened flesh. 

Killian let out a groan into her mouth when he felt Emma’s palm wrap around his cock and began to stroke it with insistence. He had been holding back for her, maintaining his control because he wanted her to come first, wanted her slick and ready when he took her. However, now that control was slipping into urgency and with her skilful manipulation of his flesh, he was panting, needing to satisfy his own needs. 

“Show me what you got Killian,” she said softly, her voice devoid of teasing and sardonic humour. This time it was an invitation to more than just her body, but to her heart.

He blinked, trying not to let the emotion overcome him so he slid a hand under her thigh, hooked it over his ship and slid into heaven in a single, hard thrust. He’d whetted her sufficiently that he’d slid all the way in, until the tip of his cock bumped deliciously against the hard barrier of flesh that would let him go no further. _Dear God, the pleasure of it_. It made him close his eyes so that he could regain control of himself. She felt so good, so bloody good. 

“Fuck me Killian,” she prompted, unable to believe how wonderfully he filled her. She could feel every inch of him inside of her and it was maddening because he had yet to move. She knew he was adjusting, trying to let her get accustomed to the feel of him but she couldn’t stand it, couldn't stand waiting.  “Now, pirate.” 

“Always give the lady what she wants,” he retorted but his voice lacked the usual swagger. 

He started to move, slowly at first, each stroke a slow burn that picked up intensity with every repeat. Emma pulled his coat off his shoulders, letting it join the rest of the clothes on the floor. His thrusts were like him, a pirate who took no prisoners. Each stroke went to the core of her, hard and fast, until she could feel shockwaves moving to the rest of her body, making her toes curl. His grunts in her ear each time he pumped, was almost as unhinging as the cock that was turning her inside into a quivering mess. 

Killian was lost, he was utterly lost. He knew that he was in love with her well before this but their coupling, it was nothing like it had been with Milah. Each time he took her, it felt like the journey inside that taut, slick passage was endless. She was able to take all of him and just to ensure that he was fully sheathed, he drove himself just a little deeper so that he was rewarded with that breathless shudder that escaped her lips when he hit the end. 

“Killian, you feel so good,” she whimpered as her fingers raked across his bare back, finally able to tear the vest of his body. Chest against chest, she could feel his heart pounding next to hers as he continued to fuck her so beautifully. 

Killian didn’t speak but claimed her mouth again and closed his eyes, barely able to form a coherent thought as he pistoned in and out of that incredible tight passage, his hand clutching her hips, the muscles in his rear flexing with each trust.  So deep, she took him so damn deep, he thought to himself as his brow knotted and he proceeded to pump in and out of her like his whole life depended on it. The positioning made the strokes long, hard and intense until he was feeling her muscles contract around him, crushing him with their pleasure. He was biting down hard, trying to maintain control and he knew that he was starting to lose it but he would not get there before her, of this he was determined. 

“Emma,” he whispered in her ear, his hoarse and taut with urgency. “Come for me luv. Come for me.” 

His words, spoken with such tenderness even though he was pleasuring her into the mother of all orgasms was so removed form the raw, animal act they were sharing. It was pure, beautiful and it pushed her right over the edge. Emma threw back her head and chanted his name, her God and anything else she felt like damn well saying as she quickened around him. The man was going to kill her before the night was out but for once, Emma didn’t mind the method. 

He would be able to live on the sound of her voice chanting his name as she came  for the rest of his life. As it was,  making love to her had outstripped Killian’s most ardent fantasies about Emma Swan. He felt her inner muscles contract so beautifully around his cock, it was like being stroked by a thousand expert fingers. The pleasure of it made him groan out loud, made him forget his name as the back of his stamina broke and he was swept right along with her on that tidal wave of exquisite sensation. Emptying his seed deep in her core, he felt the scattered remains of his thoughts trying to form words and yet only one seemed to fit. 

 _Communion_. 

He hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t expected that true love could have an even more intimate manifestation. In that one moment, it felt as if their souls had been bled into the same cup, forever intertwined.

“I love you Emma,” he whispered in her ear almost involuntarily.

She caught his mouth with a sloppy, hungry kiss and knew that her heart was bursting with emotion, that she may feel the same but today was a day of too many firsts, and this one bore thought before the unveiling. 

“I may love you too Killian,” she answered honestly and saw his eyes descend from the cloud of bliss. “Give me sometime to be sure okay?” 

“Okay Swan,” he nodded, kissing her damp cheek. “I can wait.” 

And he would because he had patience and she’d given him more than he had expected today already. He could wait because she worth waiting for.

 

THE END


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